Our
neighbours across the street have sold their home and will be moving away. Seniors in their 80s, they've gone to Florida for winters for many
years. We have come to know them over time as we talk about gardening and other
matters of concern to both of us. Today we will celebrate with them as they prepare
for a new step.
My husband and I grew up in a rural
community and were used to knowing our neighbours, even when they lived a half
mile away. Neighbours might work together in threshing groups and share a
combine or they may help out someone struggling to get crops in when
circumstances prevent that owner from getting it done, whether illness or
accident in the family. The community becomes like an extended family, such as in
1979, the year my parents’ community banded together to help those who endured
losses after a devastating tornado.
When we moved to the city, on account of
my husband’s job, we soon learned that city people operate a little
differently. While they live closer together, residents do not necessarily mix.
We found, though, that where there were children, families tend to talk a
little more and watch out for another child. And the time our car got stuck on
a snow-clogged street one of our first winters on this street, residents came
out of their homes to help dig out our car. I was most grateful.
We met two neighbours the first few days
we moved to our current home, one when our daughter borrowed a can opener so my
mother and aunt could make lunch for the moving crew. The second, on the day
after our move, when our next-door neighbour came to welcome us and introduced
himself. We would have to wait until Easter when our snowbird neighbours from across
the street came home from Florida. Eventually, I
crossed the street and said hello.
When we built our workshop, the gentleman
across the street would come over from time to time to see how things were
going. And thus relationships began to build.
Then as our grandchildren came along,
his wife began bringing back small surprises from their trip for our small ones,
and I would take the children over to see her sometimes.
In times past, before Internet
connections and cell phones make long distance communication possible, when a
family was moving away, their neighbours might never see them again. Someone
might say, “God go with you,” on what could be a perilous journey across the
ocean, to a far-off land.
So too, today, in spite of advances in
travel, we do not know what tomorrow will bring. We, too, send off our visitors
from our door with a handshake or hug, wishing our guests a safe journey.
And so this afternoon, I will host a
gathering in honour of our neighbours who are moving. We will have tea,
lemonade and some treats along with time for socializing with one another. We
may not say good-bye forever, necessarily, but we will mark this change in
their lives. Thus I share my thoughts through an Irish blessing, the tune
in my head as I write. It offers peace and well-being and the message, “God go
with you.”
May
the road rise up to meet you
May
the wind be always at your back
May
the sun shine warm upon your face
And
rains fall soft upon your fields.
And
until we meet again,
May
God hold you in the palm of His hand.
If you'd like to hear the melody, go here.
4 comments:
Carolyn, thank you for evoking winsome thoughts and remembrances of goodbyes.
Only yesterday I shared in conversation about our goodbyes to loved ones over the years at Toronto Airport.
We too, found that in the rural and smaller communities where we've lived we had quite close relationships with our neighbours.
And the old Irish blessing . . . lovely. ~~+~~
Thanks for this thoughtful post
A great account of being a true neighbour, Carolyn. The Irish blessing video was just that--a true blessing
Thanks for mentioning the video, David. I hadn't noticed the link earlier. Beautiful!
And thanks Carolyn. ~~+~~
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